User blog:Awesomesix/Total Drama ERB S2E9: Direct Contact
YO LOVE US;-; This is a new episode of TDERB. Wow, I know? So ye, if anyone still cares, Lexi and I, and I'm not sure of Wonder's opinion, were discussing publishing an episode a day/every other day to get this series back on track instead of one episode every 5 months. Cause ye, the schedule atm is shit. Until then, enjoy a rather quick, but in my opinion, good, episode of TDERB. Episode EpicLLOYD: Hello! Nice Peter: And I’m welcome to TDERB! EpicLLOYD: Where we run out of intro ideas really fast! Last time, the competitors had to make a commercial and sell Billy Mays’ newest and most famous products. Despite the ongoing disappearances, Gaga aided her slowly dwindling team to victory against the insane Mario is a Big Fat. Who tore themselves apart, but we stirred the drama with a good old “give the weak link an immunity medal they can use twice whenever they please”. Now, with all the annoying popstars somehow gone early for good, we can focus on the real issues at hand… their constant bickering. Nice Peter: But let’s hope our competitors don’t run into the same problem from last time these next four days, where they have to… drum roll… *Goku and Neil deGrasse Tyson make a drumroll for Peter.* Nice Peter: Write their own rap battle! And film it, too! EpicLLOYD: With the help of one of our directors! There’s five of them. Nice Peter: So let’s do this, guys! Here on Total Drama… Neil deGrasse Tyson: E- EpicLLOYD: ERB! *The camera transitions to the cafeteria, where Bob Ross and John Lennon are talking with Donatello, Joan of Arc is talking with Peach and William Wallace, Mr. T is talking with Lady Gaga and Marilyn Monroe, Capone with Cleopatra, Rick Grimes, and Mario, and the rest amongst each other, save for Hillary Clinton, who’s nowhere to be seen. The scene starts off with Lennon, Ross, and Don, walking to a table with their trays of food.* John Lennon: That script was killer, dude. Too bad it didn’t save our asses. Even with the awful commercial we were up against. Donatello: Well, when the world’s against you, you’ve got to learn your place eventually. Bob Ross: I got fourth place in an art contest once. Against two other people! I never felt so great! John Lennon: Dude, I remember that shit! Donatello: Dude, fourth out of three is terrible. There were less people than places in the competition. Bob Ross: Shut up, I bet you’re jealous you can’t do art! *Lennon takes Donatello to the side while Ross rants on a bit.* John Lennon: Dude, I know you may probably know this, but Ross is a loser. Just don’t hurt his feelings, okay? It’s a long story, but it’s for the better. Donatello: … (Confessional) Donatello: Okay, so… I thought these two were friends. What is Lennon going on about? Kinda rude to call someone a loser… what if Lennon’s the Raphael to Ross’s Donatello? I need to tell Ross! ' ''*The camera cuts to Joan, who is eating next to a somewhat sleepy Peach, who’s resting her head in her arms on the table, leaning towards Joan. William Wallace is stirring his cereal around while Luigi tries to sneak up on Peach.* Joan of Arc: For the last time, Luigi, get lost. Luigi: I WANT BOOTY! Joan of Arc: What do you mean, “I want booty”? I don’t care what you want, Peach wants sleep after you kept her up with your awful stories! *Luigi slinks off, swearing under his breath. Wallace looks at Joan, somewhat impressed.* William Wallace: Caring for the lassie, eh, Joan? Joan of Arc: Yeah. Well, she has a boyfriend on the other team, and a creep going after her on this one. She needs someone to help her with her problems. William Wallace: And she seems to take a likin’ to ye. Joan of Arc: I think she just likes anyone who saves her and is nice to her… must be a cold life. William Wallace: Well, with the high points of her life being a gigantic turtle kidnapping ye with his children and all, she probably gets along with anyone nice ta her. Joan of Arc: True. I don’t know how someone like her deals with all of this. William Wallace: The one thing I’m concerned about is how much of a liking she takes. She seems to view ye a bit differently than you do her... Joan of Arc: Huh? *Peach wakes up, then leans her head on Joan’s shoulder and wrapping her arms around her, still a bit tired. Mario is seen in the back corner of the camera, a bit concerned seeing this.* Peach: *yawn* ''Huh…? William Wallace: Nuthin’... ''*Peach looks confused at Wallace before closing her eyes again. Wallace shrugs as Joan gives him a concerned face.* William Wallace: Say, I wonder how Monroe’s doin’? *The camera cuts to Mr. T, Lady Gaga, and Marilyn Monroe, the latter being comforted while freaking out.* Marilyn Monroe: And then they just dumped me in the lake… Mr. T:'' Oh my god, Monroe, that’s horrible! Marilyn Monroe: I just wish I saw their face… then maybe I could slap the ''shit out of them. Mr. T: Are you sure you didn’t even see their eye color? Marilyn Monroe: Well, I think it was… blue? Mr. T: Who here has blue eyes? Marilyn Monroe: Uh… Mr. T: There’s a lot of people with blue eyes here. I can’t tell with Lennon, though. Should we make a list? Marilyn Monroe: That’d help, maybe. Lady Gaga: Awww! Teamwork! Marilyn Monroe: So, T… how’s the face? Mr. T: Huh? Marilyn Monroe: Well, the maze thing… wait. Mr. T: Oh god, what? Marilyn Monroe: What if it’s the same guy who beat you up that kidnapped me? Mr. T: Why wouldn’t it be? It’s some psycho on this island, probably Palin or something. We just need to find out who, though… *Monroe glances over at Hillary, who quickly looks from the three to down at her plate. The camera then cuts to her, with some files in her lap.* Captain Kirk: What’s with… those files? Hillary Clinton: Oh, just some random politics stuff. '''(Confessional) Hillary Clinton: I know it isn’t much, but I went through Peter and Lloyd’s files last night and found some information on some random science lab thing. I think it was seen last season, maybe someone from then can help me. (Confessional) Captain Kirk: She says… government papers… but they are clearly… labeled “Lloyd and”... fucking “Peter’s private… files”. Unless she… thinks I am… gullible. Then I guess… they say nothing. Wink… wink. *Hillary shoves her plate to the side, then looks around before opening the files. Upon looking into the contents, she finds nothing but weird photos of Doc Brown’s vacation to some apple orchard and a bunch of numbers. She is about to read them over, but Luigi spills his food on the files by accident, ruining the code.* Hillary Clinton: God dammit, you Ballsy Green Giant! These are important! Luigi: But you’re inn-a my way, Hillary! Get your-a files outta here! Hillary Clinton: Whatever. You just cost me some juice! Bob Ross: The juice here sucks anyways. Hillary Clinton: Thanks for your input, Ross, but that’s not what I meant. Not that any of you could understand what these files mean… Nice Peter (Via Loudspeaker): Alright, competitors, meet us at the giant stage outside! *All the contestants gather outside by a giant stage. On it, five booths with gold plaques and a star above them, a number on each star. In the center, Peter and Lloyd, dressed in red suits, with love related decorations around them. Everyone sits down on theater seats, and Frank Sinatra walks onto stage with a microphone, while “My Way” plays in the background.* Frank Sinatra: Hello, and welcome, lovely contestants. I am Frank Sinatra, your host for the… morning. Today is going to be the lead into a special, unforgettable set of challenges… where you guys meet your team’s dream partner who will aid you through the next long, tiring, stressful, four challenges. Bob Ross: Are we getting married? Sorry, I’m waiting until I have sex for that. Frank Sinatra: Will our lovely gentlemen please open the doors? *Peter and Lloyd head to door one, and open it up.* Frank Sinatra: Ladies and gentleman, the one and only, Stanley Kubrick! *Stanley Kubrick steps out, holding a fake HAL, with a tricycle behind him. He looks out to the contestants, who murmur, confused.* Frank Sinatra: Door two, please! *Peter and Lloyd open the door, and a man in a robe steps out with a coffee mug.* Frank Sinatra: Now, the charming, mature gentleman, Quentin Tarantino. Quentin Tarantino: Now, none y’all fuckers die, it’s not my job to store you shitheads. Frank Sinatra: And now, door three… *Peter and Lloyd open the door, and a loud explosion echoes throughout the island.* Frank Sinatra: The outspoken lad, Mister Michael Bay! Michael Bay: I’ll blow your mind! Frank Sinatra: And door four, please. *Lloyd opens door four, but nothing happens. Turning around nervously, someone appears behind him and steps forwards.* Frank Sinatra: The wise and humorous, Alfred Hitchcock. Please, come forward. Alfred Hitchcock: This place has gone to the birds. Frank Sinatra: And now, for the finale… *Peter rushes to open door five, and a loud dinosaur roar echoes throughout as Spielberg bursts out on the back of a t-rex.* Frank Sinatra: Ever so amusing, the beloved Steven Spielberg! Steven Spielberg: Easy, girl! Nice Peter: Alright, ladies and gentlemen, discuss among your teams which one of these directors you choose! You’ve got five minutes, hurry! Team Gangsters Rick Grimes: This’d be a bit easier if they’d tell us what in the heck we’re needin’ them for… Sarah Palin: I agree, eh! Maybe it’s camping! We should get ourselves mister Bay! Al Capone: These guys are directors, right? We sure this ain’t some movie challenge? Cleopatra: Capone’s right. If it’s a movie we’re doing, we might as well take anyone but the explosives guy. I heard he’s kinda iffy when it comes to them… Mr. T: What about Hitchcock? Lady Gaga: He seems a bit too old, what if he dies? Mr. T: Oh, and Spielberg’s dinosaur ain’t capable of eating our sucker asses like a jelly bean? Marilyn Monroe: Calm your tits, Laurence! Let’s just go with Spielberg. He’s a win-win no matter what challenge. Directing? I don’t think he’d be awful. Surviving? We’ve got a dinosaur! Mr. T: A hungry dinosaur! Mario: What-a about the Kubrick guy? Lady Gaga: He didn’t seem that impressive, really. The others made a grand entrance, he just stepped out with a speaker. Didn’t say anything, either. Mario: He seems-a nice… Al Capone: Last vote, guys. Who should we go for? Sarah Palin: Iceberg. Rick Grimes: ...you mean Spielberg, right? Sarah Palin: I mean what I want, eh! Rick Grimes: ...whatever. Spielberg from me. Cleopatra: Spielberg, I guess. Mr. T: Hitchcock. Marilyn Monroe: Spielberg. Lady Gaga: Spielberg. Mr. T: I change my vote, Spielberg! Mario: I-a guess Spielberg… Al Capone: It’s settled, then. Spielberg. Team Mario Is A Big Fat Joan of Arc: Alright, so any ideas who to pick? William Wallace: Why don’t we pick the fat laddeh? Seems like he got som’ of ‘em tricks down in his fat belly! Captain Kirk: I… don’t know about that… He seems… too serious… for my taste… Joan of Arc: How about the bathrobe dude? Bob Ross: Ever stood on an air vent with a bathrobe on? The air feels so good on your dick. *The whole team stares at Bob Ross disappointedly.* Bob Ross: What? Joan of Arc: Guess that’s a no. Donatello: We could go with that Michael Bay dude… Joan of Arc: Great idea, Raphael! Donatello: But he didn’t even say anythi- Hillary Clinton: Any objections to Michael Bay? None? Okay, we’re going with him! *Lloyd thumps the microphone, causing a loud white noise to echo.* EpicLLOYD: Alright, time’s up, bitches! Nice Peter: Gangsters, which of these five will you disappoint with your mediocrity? Al Capone: We’re gonna go with that Spielberg dude. Steven Spielberg: Nice choice! *The t-rex runs excitedly to Team Gangsters. The shaking causes Gorgo to fall down.* Nice Peter: And Mario Is A Big Fat? Captain Kirk: We’re going with… Michael Bay… Michael Bay: Alright! This is gonna be the bomb! *Michael Bay walks to Team Mario Is A Big Fat, with explosions from the door he was in. The explosions cause Gorgo, who was standing up, to once again fall down.* Stanley Kubrick: Why did nobody pick me? *Kubrick goes on his tricycle, riding away while crying silently to himself. Tarantino laughs at him, then walks back in, as Hitchcock somehow disappears.* Nice Peter: Okay, listen up, we’re going back to our roots with this challenge… And also because we were extremely lazy and had no idea what deadly challenge to put you through… You’re going to go on a RAP BATTLE! Al Capone: Huh, a rap battle? This’ll be easy. I fucking demolished that Blackbeard dude. Joan of Arc: No offense, dude, but I got a way wider margin over my opponent. We’re gonna ace this way more. Nice Peter: Alright, shut up! You’re not doing the rap battle just yet. First off, you’re going to have to decide who’s gonna represent your team in the battle. So, today, you’re going to do that, make an agenda, and get all your props. Your director will be watching your progress. They’re gonna submit some reports and whoever does the least shit today will be booting someone off. And make sure to get as much progress as you can. What props you get today, you’re stuck with for the rest of this challenge. Now scram! *Team Gangsters goes to the cabin, and Team Mario Is A Big Fat goes to the kitchen.* EpicLLOYD: We should get Morgan to bring us better guests, shouldn’t we? Nice Peter: Yup. *The camera cuts to the cabin, where the Gangsters stand by the stairs awkwardly.* Rick Grimes: So, who do we choose to rap? Gorgo: Easy choice, it’s gotta be Al. Al Capone: Eh, no thank you. If I’m the one rapping, I’m the one getting all the attention again. Sarah Palin: Please, you’re not tha- Al Capone: It’s done, alright? I’m not rapping! Rick Grimes: Okay… Who volunteers? Cleopatra and Marilyn Monroe: Me! Cleopatra: You? Please, you’re only fit for a Macy’s parade! Marilyn Monroe: Oh, honey, I will fuck you up. Cleopatra: Whatcha gonna do? Flaunt your miscarrying uterus to me again? Marilyn Monroe: Oh that is IT! I’m gonna- Al Capone: Don’t even think of TOUCHING her. Marilyn Monroe: And who are you to boss me around? Rick Grimes: Enough of this, ya hear me! NEITHER of you are gon’ step up to the battlefield. Cleopatra: Fine. Marilyn Monroe: I’ve had enough of this team! *Marilyn Monroe storms out the cabin, slamming the door shut.* Cleopatra: Jeez, who got all up in her skirt? Sarah Palin: Yeah, maybe you. Eh! Al Capone: Stop fighting! We already lost one member because nobody couldn’t shut their traps! Mr. T: Shouldn’t somebody go out and find her? Rick Grimes: Nah, she’ll come back… For now, we have to decide. *The camera cuts to the kitchen with team MIABF, who is also standing around, Ross drumming on pots and pans with wooden spoons.* Hillary Clinton: Let’s just get right to it… Who’s gonna do it? Joan of Arc: Yeah, I might have got carried away… Maybe I shouldn’t battle. I mean, I battled a twerker. Maybe that’s why I got the votes. Hillary Clinton: Are you sure you don’t want to battle? Joan of Arc: I’ll pass… Princess Peach: I’ll pass too. I don’t want to do any hard work. *Princess Peach rests her head on Joan of Arc’s shoulder* Hillary Clinton: Well, which of you’s willing to get dirty? Bob Ross: Dirty? I like to roll myself in paint and pretend my hair’s the brush. I make happy little trees with my afro. Donatello: Uh… what? Bob Ross: Never mind, you wouldn’t understand. It’s not like you’re an artist anyway. Donatello: … Hillary Clinton: Anyway, seriously, who are we going to pick? Kirk, do yo- Kirk? *Captain Kirk longingly stares into Michael Bay, who is monitoring them from another table, playing Flappy Bird.* Hillary Clinton: Earth to Captain Kirk! Please pay attention. Captain Kirk: What? Uh… sorry for that… what were you… talking about? (Confessional) Captain Kirk: That was… embarrassing… to say the least. But I mean… come on… Michael Bay’s face works… wonders on… everyone. Hillary Clinton: Who do you think should rap? Captain Kirk: We can have Michae- I mean uh… John? John Lennon: Sure I’ll battle. Just get me a gun and- Hillary Clinton: No, Lennon! Don’t… Ugh, this is a disaster... *The camera cuts back to Team Gangsters, who are busy looking around the cabin while Spielberg feeds his t-rex.* Mario: Maybe I can-a do it? Rick Grimes: Nah, I don’t think you should do it. Mario: Why not? Rick Grimes: Well, uh, uh… I think you… lost? Mario: Oh, okay, less-a work for me! Al Capone: That leaves us with you, Gaga, Palin, Gorgo, and T. Gorgo: Why me? I haven’t rapped. Ever. Mr. T: You know what, let me give it a try. Al Capone: Well, you do look and sound intimidating if you can and now that I think more about it… Yeah let’s go with you, Mr. T. Steven Spielberg: Ah, I see you are done with picking your representative. You should get going, planning and writing your props. Do it quick or… *The t-rex roars and stomps its foot on the ground, knocking everyone but Spielberg to the ground.* Steven Spielberg: I should go take her to her sleeping pen. Now go! Before you waste any more time! Nice Peter (via loudspeaker): Contestants! You have an hour left to finish everything! Good luck! Al Capone: Quick, Rick, Palin, Gaga, Mario go to where the props are! Lady Gaga: And where is it exactly? Al Capone: I… don’t know. Rick Grimes: Fuck this, let’s just go! *Rick, Sarah, Lady Gaga, and Mario go outside the cabin.* Al Capone: Now for the rest of us, how do we make Mr. T battle-worthy? Gorgo: He has to practice his voice. Also, you need to know how to insult your opponent. You can’t go all gentleman on him or we’ll lose this challenge. (Confessional) Mr. T: The pressure’s on now. My team’s relying on me. I can do it. But I don’t think I can bear to hurt anybody! Except for that Wallace… ' ''*The camera cuts to the dock, where Marilyn Monroe is throwing rocks to the sea.* '''(Confessional) Marilyn Monroe: Who does that Cleopatra think she is? Fuckin’ brother-fucker. I swear I will do anything to get her Egyptian ass walking home. If only I can mess with Al’s head… *Marilyn continues throwing rocks, when she spots a shark’s fin.* (Confessional) Marilyn Monroe: A shark?! Do Lloyd and Peter want us killed?! *The shark pops up, terrifying Monroe. The shark flops to the dock beside Monroe as she cowers in fear. She opens her eyes, and touches the shark, realizing it’s a puppet.* Marilyn Monroe: Ha! How pathetic. Steven Spielberg: No! My shark! My JAWS! Marilyn Monroe: Your what? Steven Spielberg: JAWS! The shark puppet I used to scare the crap out of everyone! Gone! Marilyn Monroe: Can I… take it, Mr. Spielberg? Steven Spielberg: Sure, why not. Now that you’ve messed it up beyond all repair. *The camera cuts to the kitchen, where Team Mario Is A Big Fat continues arguing.* Luigi: IMMA WIN! Hillary Clinton: Alright, we get that! Now please, shut the hell up! Luigi: NO, IMMA WIN! *Luigi throws Hillary’s files out of a broken kitchen window, into a conveniently formed swamp.* Hillary Clinton: Oh, hell no, you done messed with the wrong Rodham! William Wallace: He messed with ta wrong what''ham? Luigi: What-a were those files even-a for? Hillary Clinton: They were IMPORTANT! Luigi: Not-a if you let me grab them and-a throw them! Hillary Clinton: Jesus fuck, how dumb are you? Bob Ross: I’m so dumb that I stuck my dick in a- Luigi: You’re-a the dumb one for-a letting me throw your-a papers! Peach: QUIET, YOU TWO! Is ''anyone getting anything done? Joan of Arc: I found some of Gandhi’s old salt packets. William Wallace: I found a bunch o’ metal containers! Captain Kirk: I found a… hunk of a man… *Captain Kirk stares into Michael Bays’ dreamy eyes.* Michael Bay: Anyone got milk? Captain Kirk: Right… away… (Confessional) Hillary Clinton: Luigi’s gotten onto my last nerve. Those papers could’ve been secret codes, tax refunds, fake emails, proof to conspiracy, cloning documents, details on infamous world criminals, or even better, nude photos of Peter and Lloyd! I mean… worse. Yeah, that’s ''definitely ''worse. (Confessional) Luigi: Hillary doesn’t-a know anything! Paper’s only-a good for two things: Wiping my-a buttcheeks and drawing Peach-a naked! Sometimes-a both! ' '(Confessional) Captain Kirk: Michael Bay… has come onto… me. Something about him… is a distraction… a hindrance. ' Peach: Has anyone else gotten anything done? Bob Ross: I got a rock. John Lennon: I found a mop. Thing 1: LET GO OF ME! John Lennon: Silly mop… heh… Donatello: We found- Raphael: Donatello found some old dish rags. Hillary Clinton: Good, good… so, who exactly is going to rap, again? Michael Bay: Here’s a better question: Who wants to see a cool helicopter? ''*Kirk, Luigi, Ross, Raphael, Donatello, and Lennon all swarm to Michael Bay.* Donatello: Does this mean something Leo made actually worked? Raphael: Sick! Michael Bay: Follow me, guys! It’s got a cannon! *Everyone who lined up towards Bay leaves with him, abandoning Hillary, Joan, Wallace, and Peach by themselves.* William Wallace: Well, they’re not rappin’, that’s sure. Hillary Clinton: Christ. '(Confessional) Hillary Clinton: I ''really regret this choice now. *The camera cuts to Al, Cleopatra, Mr. T, and Gorgo fishing through some props while Mario, Rick Grimes, Lady Gaga, and Sarah Palin take notes of what’s chosen.* Al Capone: I hope we don’t lose this shitty challenge, cause Marilyn’s gonna get it. Cleopatra: Why do you care about Monroe, hon? She’s just a little twat. Al Capone: Cause I ain’t gonna let this team fall in on itself! Rick Grimes: Relax, Al, look at how this is goin’. No one ‘cept Marilyn is slackin’ off. *Everyone turns to see Marilyn Monroe on the back of a t-rex, carrying a fake shark.* Marilyn Monroe: Who’s the twat now, Cleo? Cleopatra: Oh please, you brought in a sock puppet. Look what we got! Mr. T: We got a bunch o’ props! We gonna pull through on this! Steven Spieberg: Wonderful work! So, what’re you going to do with these props? Mr. T: Well, uh… *Mario picks up a disco ball proudly.* Mario: We-a gonna dance! Rap goes with dancin’, a-right? Sarah Palin: And this right here, this… *Sarah Palin picks up a portrait of Bill Clinton.* Sarah Palin: This little Satan’s gonna be a mask! Lady Gaga: With all these animal suits, we can make a whole music video with animals! *Lady Gaga holds up a bunch of her animal suits.* Al Capone: Hey, ain’t those yours? Lady Gaga: Well- Sarah Palin: And this portrait is Hillary’s! I hope she don’t mind this thing getting some well needed repairs! *Sarah Palin punches a hole through the portrait, ripping off Bill’s face.* Rick Grimes: Wait a minute… these’r my revolvers… Cleopatra: Hey… *Cleopatra pulls a thong out of the pile of unsorted props, some people looking disgusted.* Cleopatra: This is mine! Al Capone: Rowr… I mean, hey! This is mine, too! *Capone pulls up a booze bottle, then hides it from the camera.* Al Capone: I mean, uh… don’t air this part… Sarah Palin: What’s so wrong about this? We needed props, and I was thinkin’ what better place than our own suitcases! Marilyn Monroe: Way to go, moose knuckle, you stole everyone’s stuff and gave me the mental image of Cleo in a thong! Cleopatra: I don’t look that bad, if I do say so myself. Mario: Then whose disco-b… wait, do you-a hear that? *Everyone looks up to see a helicopter, flown by Michael Bay, hover above. Quickly, people from Mario Is A Big Fat begin bungee-ing down and stealing the belongings, eventually leaving them with nothing but the empty cases.* Michael Bay (Megaphone): SUCK MY DYNAMITE DICK, SPIELBERG! Steven Spielberg: MICHAEL! *Luigi takes the thong, Raphael nabs some of the larger props, Kirk grabs a bunch of his own things, Lennon takes all the weapons, and Ross just grabs random things.* Rick Grimes: Oh, this is not cool. *The helicopter is flown away, leaving the Gangsters in a mixture of emotions.* Al Capone: Hey! You guys come back here! Cleopatra: They took my thong! Marilyn Monroe: Honey, that’s a blessing. You would never pull that off. Mr. T: I bet WALLACE is behind this! Oh, Imma get his sucker ass so bad that he’ll be wishing his dick was cut off after'' I kick it up HIS OWN ASS! ''*Mr. T punches a window, breaking the a good 3-4 foot square of the cabin wall along with it.* Marilyn Monroe: Hey, at least we got this shark? *The puppet’s head flops off, and Spielberg begins to cry. Monroe looks at the camera with an unamused face, Office style. The camera then switches to the kitchen with Wallace, Joan, Peach, and Hillary.* William Wallace: So… Peach: *sigh* Joan of Arc: So, when they get back, who are we going to send home? William Wallace: I dunno, Kirk? Hillary Clinton: Oh, I know who my vote is for. Peach: Oh, who? Hillary Clinton: Luigi. Thanks to him, the mystery of this place is still hidden from my grasp. William Wallace: This can’t be the first time ye lost ‘fficial documents, can’t it? Hillary Clinton: Why you little- *A helicopter lands outside, and Ross, Lennon, Raphael, and Donatello pile in with all of the props they stole. Michael Bay walks in carrying some with Kirk, and Luigi tags behind with nothing on but Cleopatra’s thong.* Hillary Clinton: Jesus, that’s a horrid site. Raphael: At least you didn’t have to witness him put it on… Joan of Arc: I don’t need that image in my head… Raphael: Anywho, we totally robbed the other team of their shit. Look at these… wait, is this my chisel? Joan of Arc: And my ''sword? ''*Hillary Clinton walks over to the massive pile and pulls out the portrait Sarah punched.* Hillary Clinton: Sarah…! William Wallace: So lemme get this straight, they robbed our things for props? Bob Ross: At least they didn’t steal my turtle tank… *Bob Ross pulls out an aquarium tank, with little happy turtles in it. He feeds them, then holds the tank close.* Bob Ross: Hey, look what I found! John Lennon: Are those frogs? Siiick, dude! Hillary Clinton: Oh, this. Is. It. *Hillary throws the painting at a wall, barely missing Michael Bay, who jerks his head to dodge it, then goes back to playing Flappy Bird on his smartphone.* Hillary Clinton: So, first, Luigi ruins my documents, then he ruins them a second time, then you guys all leave, then you steal from the other team, then we find out the other team stole from us, and Sarah Palin punched my portrait of Bill, and now we have a pile of junk to do nothing with! And Luigi, put some more clothes on, Christ! Raphael: Well, I thought this would help us! It was my… well, Don’s idea. Donatello: I had nothing to do with thi- Hillary Clinton: I AM DONE. WITH. THIS. SHIT! *Peach hides behind Joan as everyone, except Michael Bay, is shocked by Hillary’s out of nowhere tantrum. She marches out of the kitchen, off to somewhere, right as the announcements click on.* Nice Peter: Ladies and genital men, the time is up! Let’s go, meet back at the stage! William Wallace: Oh wee… Michael Bay: Heh, this little birdy never gives up. And how is there so many of them? This is hilarious! *The two teams meet up back at the stage, Mario is a Big Fat giving Gangsters a generally annoyed look, the Gangsters glaring at Palin, and Hillary sitting in the back away from everyone.* Nice Peter: So, my friends Bay and Spielberg have reported to us about your teams, but first… Lloyd has some announcements to make. EpicLLOYD: First off, we have three new employees to greet you here. You’ve already met Sinatra, so he’s nothing new, but say hello to our gophers, Bill and Ted. *Bill and Ted walk out on stage, nodding to each other before air-guitar-ing to the contestants.* EpicLLOYD: These two will be cleaning up after you, as well as testing challenges. That includes the firey, doomy, explosiony, painy ones. Bill S. Preston: Wait, what? EpicLLOYD: Also, meet one of our new more physical workers, Alex James Murphy. *RoboCop walks out and looks at the crowd, before locking on Al Capone and pointing a gun at him. Cleopatra quickly jumps before him.* RoboCop: Freeze, criminal! Al Capone: Woah, woah, woah! Cleopatra: Don’t hurt my Capone! EpicLLOYD: Alex, don’t do anything to the contestants. I’d rather they hurt themselves. RoboCop: Affirmative. EpicLLOYD: RoboCop, or Paul Blart as I like to call him, will be watching for anyone like the N.E.R.D.S. who try and pull anything funny on us. Alright? *Everyone but Hillary nods nervously in agreement.* EpicLLOYD: Good. Now, for the team news. *Peter walks up to the podium with a devilish look on his face.* Nice Peter: So… one thing we’d prefer to have more of here is drama. And what better way to do that, then… uh, guitar-roll please… *Bill and Ted make air guitar noises as Peter waits for a bit, then stops them.* Nice Peter: We’ve decided to- *Bill makes an air guitar noise while Ted laughs, and Peter throws a water bottle at him, shutting him up and scaring Ted.* Nice Peter: We’ve decided to switch some teams around. *The two teams murmur nervously, before Peter throws a water bottle at Bill again to make them shut up.* Bill S. Preston: Hey, dude! What’s that for? Nice Peter: Mario, please go over to team Mario is a Big Fat. Mario: W-what? Al Capone: Now, hold up a second! William Wallace: Er, what? Luigi: Yeeeessss… *The two teams burst into discussion again, and Peter throws a water bottle at Bill, who dodges and laughs cockily, before being hit in the nuts with a shoe and doubling over in pain.* Nice Peter: And Mario, you’re switching places with Hillary… Hillary Clinton: What?!? *Sarah Palin stands up to object to this, but Rick forces her back down in her seat.* Sarah Palin: This is an outrage, eh! I don’t want no old bitch on my team! We already got Cleo for that! Cleopatra: Hey! Al Capone: Oh, you take that back, you eskimo little- *Rick Grimes holds back Capone as Palin yells at Peter. Mr. T tries calming her down while Mario looks over at the other team nervously, and the other team is in general uproar. Gorgo sighs and looks at the camera through a gap between Capone and Rick, rolling her eyes.* Nice Peter: SHUT IT! *Bill awaits for a water bottle, and sighs when none comes, until Lloyd throws one at Ted, scaring Bill offstage.* Nice Peter: RoboCop, since these people cannot handle walking, please escort them. RoboCop: Prime directive: Help disabled people walk to other team. *Peter watches somewhat annoyed as RoboCop quickly carries Mario over to Luigi and Hillary over to Palin.* Sarah Palin: Oh, thank you! I’ll take care of it like it was my child, eh! Hillary Clinton: I don’t know who that’s an insult to, me or you! Nice Peter: Grandmas down in front, can it! These are the new teams until the merge unless you guys start something else! Got it? Hillary and Sarah: Fine… Nice Peter: Now, for Mario is a Big Fat. Due to stealing objects from the other team, and making a mess of the kitchen, which made Gandhi cry, you guys have to vote off someone! Luigi: Ooh, what abo- Nice Peter: No, and it CANNOT be Mario, Luigi! Luigi: Imma win… *Luigi slumps down in his chair.* Nice Peter: Meet Santa down at the campfire elimination thingy! *Team Mario is a Big Fat walks down to the ceremony as Peter goes to apologize to Bill and Ted, before making them clean up the water bottles. The camera then cuts to the elimination ceremony, where Santa is standing in front of a screen.* Santa Claus: Alright, you butts, let’s see who voted for who! (Confessional) Princess Peach: I feel like Linguini has to go… he’s not being that nice to Hillary. Sorry! Luigi: SHUT UP! (Confessional) Joan of Arc: Captain Kirk… he’s being a bit weird lately. Captain Kirk: Oh, you just don’t… understand the connection between… me and Bay. (Confessional) William Wallace: Who’s this Donatello fella? Does he even show up? *Pause* Eh, fuck it. See ya never! Donatello: Well, screw y- (Confessional) Captain Kirk: I’ll go with… Peach. She did… nothing… and… probably never… will. Joan of Arc: Okay, that was kinda uncalled for. (Confessional) John Lennon: Joan of Arc. Fuck that bitch, she’s hot as hell, but she’s bossy. ' John Lennon: I don’t know this guy, but I agree with him! Bob Ross: He seems like a total douche… Joan of Arc: Well then… '(Confessional) Bob Ross: William Wallace hurts my ears. Isn’t that right, turtles? *Bob Ross lifts a turtle out of the tank, then slowly shakes it and says “yes” in a high pitched, muffled voice.*' Yeah, let’s send him back to Australia!' William Wallace: I’m not sure how t’ feel ‘bout that… (Confessional) Donatello: Definitely Raphael. He’s an a-''' '''(Confessional) Raphael: Hmm… Lennon. I don’t like him that much, really. He’s kinda weird, and not in a good way, like Ross… wow, did I just say that? John Lennon: Thank you! Santa Claus: And now, last but not least, Luigi’s. Now, hold onto your seats… (Confessional) Luigi: IMMA WIN! IMMA WIN! IMMA WIN! ''*Furiously stamps his own voting card, thus eliminating himself.* ''IMMMMAAAAA WWIIIIIIN! Santa Claus: Shocking. Mario: What-a about me? Santa Claus: Mario, you were too nervous to vote anyone off. (Confessional) Mario: Uh… I don’t-a hate anyone! ''*Panicked movement* ''I can’t take this! ''*Rams out the door of the confessional. Luigi snoops in and stamps Mario’s paper for him, by his own name.*'' Santa Claus: Sorry, Luigi, but you’re out. Luigi: But… but… *Macho Man and Goku grab Luigi’s arms, and drag him to the dock.* Luigi: IMMMMMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAA WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN! *This line echoes throughout the island, disturbing some crows. The camera cuts to the dock.* EpicLLOYD: Well, today was part one in the four part rap battle challenge. And clearly, these nimrods couldn’t handle it. *Looks over at Bill and Ted.* And neither could the contestants. Back on topic, tomorrow is part two of this challenge, and it may take more brain space than the contestants can muster: That’s right, writing! How many people are illiterate? Who can write? Who can write good? Will we ever see Cleopatra in the thong? That is, if Luigi returns it? Will Luigi win? Why am I asking all these questions? Frankly I don’t really know. Here on Total! Drama! ERB! *The camera cuts to Hillary Clinton and Lady Gaga sneaking around outside the laboratory at night.* Lady Gaga: Why did you need me again? Hillary Clinton: Well, I needed someone from last season, and you’d be the only one to tag along with such a crazy idea. Capone’s a tightwad, Cleopatra’s too clingy, Palin’s just a moron, Monroe’s a prick, and Mr. T’s kind of a wimp… Lady Gaga: Huh? He’s not tha- Hillary Clinton: Here we are! *Hillary Clinton opens the door to the lab, finding Doc Brown asleep in a chair, and Thomas Edison with his back turned, busy working on Goku. The two women look at each other quietly, then sneak past quickly, darting behind poles. Eventually, they reach the opening to a room with a giant pool. Darting to the other side of the wall, they edge along, whispering.* Lady Gaga: What are we looking for? Hillary Clinton: Anything scandalous. Anything secretive looking. Anything that might be a tipoff to Peter and Lloyd. Lady Gaga: Isn’t this all of those things? Hillary Clinton: But we aren’t looking for us. *The two reach the end of the pool, near a long, narrow bridge which functions as a gate to the pool, with the ocean and a dock with a large boat pulling up on the opposite end. Quickly, they dart across towards a locked door with a window and blinds. A gold plaque on the door reads “Important Files”. Gaga looks nervously at Hillary, who’s distracted by something much, much, bigger. She quickly pulls Gaga behind as someone in some rather raggedy clothing steps off of the old boat, dragging a bearded man towards RoboCop. Hillary and Gaga peek over just enough to see them talking.* Christopher Columbus: You’re the new night guard, right? RoboCop: Affirmative. Blackbeard: Lemme go, Chrissy Chriss! Christopher Columbus: I’m the ocean watch. I report activity of the, you know… RoboCop: Sorry, sir. I do not know. Christopher Columbus: The, uh… the Gods. Blackbeard: I’m telling ev’ryone thar be giant devil things, but no, ye don’t lissen! Christopher Columbus: Tell Peter and Lloyd that none of the statues are doing anything, really. Wait… no, actually, alert them of this: Poseidon, while still frozen, has been showing signs of life in his eyes. RoboCop: Affirmative. Christopher Columbus: He’s still stuck still for the most part, but I’m having my men watch him only for now, if that’s fine with Lloyd. I told him that if anything starts acting up, I’ll watch the others while my men guard off the guy doing anything. Last thing we need is those giant statues… the, Lego statues? Weird request… to burst back into humans… if you can call them that... and kill us all. RoboCop: Men watching Poseidon, seeming suspicious. Got it. Christopher Columbus: Also, one more thing… RoboCop: Yes? *Lady Gaga and Hillary Clinton duck back behind, Hillary giggling with delight while Gaga looks worried.* Hillary Clinton: So that’s what Newton tried to warn me about! This is perfect! Lady Gaga: So, we’re done? Hillary Clinton: Oh no, this is just the beginning to a whole adventure right he- *RoboCop peers over Hillary and Gaga’s hiding spot holding a pistol to them, with Blackbeard tied up behind him. RoboCop: You two have the right to remain silent. Teams Gangsters: Al Capone, Cleopatra, Doctor Who, Gorgo, Hillary Clinton, Kanye West, Lady Gaga, Marilyn Monroe, Mr. T, Rick Grimes, Sarah Palin, Skrillex. Mario is a Big Fat: Bob Ross, Captain Kirk, Donatello, Joan of Arc, John Lennon, Justin Bieber, Luigi, Mario, Miley Cyrus, Peach, Raphael, William Wallace. Category:Blog posts